


What We Do

by CaptainTarthister



Series: From Across the Room [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Pre-Ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Brienne's botched seduction attempt? Find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Jaime POV

By the time Tywin Lannister left, Jaime’s head hurt. He felt tired and ached everywhere.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. The liquid soothed the dryness in his mouth and throat. Then he poured a refill and trudged to the direction of the master suite.

Emotional rollercoasters had nothing on what he was going through now, and what Brienne was feeling was in another universe altogether, he thought, rubbing the space between his eyes as he stood before the door. He stared at it, wondering if he should go in.

When Brienne burst through the door of his study, she was a most welcome surprise. He would rather she dropped by long after Tywin left because his father always brought him down and he didn’t want Brienne to see him downtrodden and defeated like that. He almost greeted her, “Wench!” but she held a hand to him, indicating he shut up. 

Then she started disrobing.

Jaime went from being annoyed at his father, to delighted at the sight of Brienne, to violently aroused, to shock, horrified and then worried in less than ten seconds. Brienne had screamed upon seeing Tywin, who, fortunately and both unfortunately, remained stoic and cool, as if it was an everyday thing to be standing less than three feet away from a naked woman. As Jaime shot to his feet to cover Brienne, she fainted.

Sprawled naked on the floor helped little. It was a whole new level of awkwardness getting your stocking-clad girlfriend off it with a massive tent in your pants and your father watching coolly. Tywin offered to help and was about to get to his knees but Jaime snarled at him to stay away. Lifting Brienne, who was beginning to groan about dying, he held her tight in his arms and brought her to his bedroom. 

“A bad dream, this is a fucking bad dream,” she muttered against his chest. 

Jaime hated to disappoint her. He could only kiss her before laying her on the bed. He was given one moment to appreciate the sight of her heavily freckled, small, high breasts, mouthwatering cunt and endless legs encased in sheer black stockings. He pulled off her stilettos, tossing them away unseen somewhere before he drew the comforter over her. “Don’t leave,” he begged her, kissing her on the shoulder. Then he brushed her limp blond hair away from her forehead and reluctantly, left. 

“So,” Tywin was standing in the living room when Jaime was about to head back to the study. Jaime thought his cold green eyes looked very bright but it was probably a trick of light. “You’re being kept busy by the lady Evenstar.” He knew that Brienne was now their dessert caterer for events but had never met her.

“Her name,” Jaime said quietly, “is Brienne. Brienne Tarth.”

Tywin nodded. Hands clasped at his back, he remarked,“She’s a healthy young woman.”

“Don’t, Father.”

“What? That’s what I saw.”

Jaime shot him a warning look. “If you want to walk out of here with your teeth intact, you won’t mention tonight ever again. I mean it. I will not have Brienne ridiculed, certainly not by you.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Merely commenting. So. Are things serious?”

“You should leave. Now.”

“Well, I was leaving anyway. Give my regards to your lady, Jaime.”

With Tywin gone, Jaime was now left to deal with Brienne. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door to his bedroom.  
Brienne was curled up in a ball, having changed her position from when he left her. Jaime put the glass of water on the nightstand, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his tie and stretched out beside her. He was relieved that when he pulled her to his chest, she didn’t freeze or resist. She let him hold her. He pushed the blanket to her hips. Brienne’s skin wasboth cool and warm to the touch. He rubbed her bare back, kissed her on the forehead. Slowly, his headache began to ease.

“I want to die,” she murmured against his shirt.

“Now that would upset me. You don’t want me any more upset right now,” Jaime told her.

“Oh, gods. Jaime, I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you like that.” Brienne sounded like she was crying.

“What the hell?” Jaime had her look at him. Sure enough, she was red-faced and tears hung on the corners of her wonderful eyes. “What on earth are you gabbing about, wench? Why are you apologizing?”

She frowned. “Didn’t you see what happened there?”

“Oh, believe me, I remember everything.” As Brienne let out a wail, Jaime hugged her hard. “Wench. _Brienne._ Look at me. Do I look angry?”

“You said you didn’t want to be any more upset,” she whispered, hiding her face between his chest and armpit.

“I’m upset because you’re upset. I’m certainly not upset that my girlfriend came to my apartment naked under her coat. That’s every man’s dream, Brienne. I’m far from upset that you intend to have my cock no matter what.” He urged her to look at him. “I’m upset that you probably hate yourself now and thinking all terrible things about me.”

She shook her head. “But Jaime, your father—“

“Could get his heart racing once in a while. Although I am upset he saw you.”

She nodded. “I know, Jaime, I’m so sorry—“

“You misunderstand, Brienne,” Jaime interjected. He shook her a little so she would look at him. His eyes dark with desire, he growled, “I’m upset that he saw what’s supposed to be for _my eyes_ only.”

“If the gods have mercy they’ll kill me now.” Brienne buried her face in his chest again.

Jaime gripped her tight. Kissing her hair, he whispered, “Wench, I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

Brienne still looked miserable.“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. There’s nothing to apologize for,” he told her fiercely.

They held each other quietly for a while. Jaime would press a random kiss on her cheek, sometimes on her lips. His arms were so tight around her that it we becoming difficult to breathe but Brienne didn’t want to leave their comforting, protective circle.

“Can I get you anything, wench? Water? Anything?” He asked her.

“My dignity.” Brienne’s voice was small.

“I can’t give you something you already have. Anything else?”

“I don’t know. I just want to stay here. I don’t want to go anywhere.” She dared to press a little kiss on his throat. Jaime swallowed, closing his eyes then opening them.

“Do you want a bath?”

She nodded. 

“Then a bath you’ll have,” Jaime declared. He pulled her toward him so he could kiss her on the lips. Her lips were chapped and dry so he licked them, softening their rough texture. He moved so she would be under him, receiving his kisses and touch. As he coaxed her lips to open more so he could slide his tongue between them, he cupped her small breast. It was a warm, gentle weight that fit perfectly in his palm. His thumb brushed on a straining nipple, drawing her body in a sudden arch. Then his fingers fluttered down, caressing her stomach, circling her navel before delving past the waistband of her garter belt. 

Just before his fingers found the curls of her cunt, he caught himself. Jaime heaved himself up off her, breathing quickly. Brienne, still on her back and looking soft and vulnerable with her heavy-lidded sapphire eyes and swollen mouth, looked at him in confusion. 

“Why did you stop?”

“I want you to relax first, wench. But it’s bloody difficult keeping my hands off you when you like the way you do.” Jaime trailed a finger across the waistband of her garter belt, the seam of her thigh and played with the garter hooked on a stocking. Groaning, he lowered his lips to her cunt. It was wet and Brienne's secret scent called to him.“But Gods, you’re irresistible.”

Brienne needed comforting but Jaime _needed_ her. He wanted to bathe in the familiar, salty-sweet smell of her. He wanted her secret flavour in his mouth always, lingering in the back of his throat. Jaime groaned again, his tongue circling her stiff nub. When his name flitted out of Brienne’s lips in a strangled gasp, he pushed a finger in her moist folds.

 _“Jaime. Jaime. Jaime.”_ She chanted, her hips moving toward his face, his fingers.

“Do you want to come?”

“Please.”

He slipped another finger in her tight heat and curled them. “Do you want to come?”

“ _Yes!_ Please. Jaime. Make me come, gods. _Please, please._ ”

She was so tensed and stiff, writhing wild under him that Jaime knew she was close to the edge already. He pushed her there and gloried in her wanton cry of release. He sucked every drop of her come, wanting everything, wanting her, for always. As she came down, he continued with little licks and kisses on her wet cunt, her inner thighs, the little tremors of her body making him want to draw another orgasm from her. But not now. Later, much later, he told himself, picking his head up. He rested his head on her strong thigh to catch his breath. 

Brienne, still panting, was looking at the ceiling. Jaime crawled over her, dipping a tongue in her navel, licking her ribs. He sighed against her breasts when her arms went around him and held him there.

“You’re so great,” he said, licking one nipple then the other. “What did I do to get someone like you?”

He pushed himself up then. Though his eyes were almost black with desire, they were also warm and gentle. Brienne looked a little drowsy but her eyes were still bright and searching, longing.

“I’m hardly a prize, Lannister,” she told him.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took her hand and kissed every finger. Then he sat back and offered his hand to her. “You mentioned something about a bath.”

“Give me a minute to recover,” Brienne groaned and he chuckled. 

“You sure you want me to fuck you, wench?” He teased her. “You’ll never get out of bed for another six months.”

“You’re all talk. What you've given me is hardly a taste.”

“Ouch."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well," she pretended to consider, "it's not all that bad."

"Not all that bad? Maybe I should fuck you now." 

"No! I want a bath. You promised."

Grinning, Jaime offered her his hand again. She smirked and took it, letting him pull her up. He bit back a smile when she wrapped the sheet around her. Then she turned to the side and looked at her legs still covered in stockings.

"For what it's worth," Jaime told her, running a finger down her toned arm. He nodded at her legs. "I would have fucked you on the desk if. . .well, had things been just a little different."

"Desk sex." Brienne beamed. She looked almost lovely, the warm flush on her face and chest due to her going wild in his arms just a while ago. Jaime couldn't take his eyes off her. "We should do that sometime. Can we, Jaime?"

Gods. She was really going to kill him. If not her innocence it's her fucking enthusiasm. _I wish I were a younger man,_ Jaime thought."Bath first," he told her firmly. Then he cupped her cheek. "Desk sex is quite advanced, my love. But we'll get there." 

"You promise?"

"You have my solemn vow. Now," Jaime dropped his hand and got to his feet. "Why don't you get ready while I run us a bath?"

"You're joining me?" Brienne asked, unclipping one stocking then rolling it down.

He smiled as the black fabric receded and revealed her freckle by freckle. “I’m coming with you.”


	2. Two

Brienne POV

As Brienne got rid of her garter belt and stockings and adjusted the sheet tighter around her body, Jaime got to work. He turned on the water, putting his hand under the spout to make sure it was warm but not too warm. It was regretful he didn’t have any bubble bath or any luxurious salts. He shot Brienne a look of apology as she stood by the door, adorably tousled and mussed. He wanted to tease her and tell her to remove the sheet because he had seen everything. However, covered up as she was, she was making him hot and aroused. 

She closed her eyes as he kissed her full on the mouth. “Sorry, wench. It’s just water and soap, I’m afraid.”

“It’s more than fine,” she said honestly. She wanted a bath, really did. Her body had been sweating heavily earlier and she wanted to wash away any remnant of that embarrassing incident with Tywin Lannister. Though her head still felt thick and heavy with images of how she had once again come apart in Jaime’s arms, there was no erasing what had happened earlier. She clutched at the sheet.  
Brienne lowered her eyes when she caught Jaime looking at her like that again. As if by standing with her messy her and gods only knew how she looked like she was amazing. Biting her lip, she walked toward the tub.

Jaime kissed her on the shoulder. “Get in before it gets cold. I’ll join you in a bit.”

He left her, shuffling away quietly. Brienne looked behind her and saw he had neglected to close the door. So she closed it, pushing it tight to the frame. It was ridiculous to lock it—he was joining her, after all—but for the first time since they’d seen each other naked, she was unsure. 

I’m coming with you, Jaime told her. Did he mean to join her and play with her some more, or did he. . .were they going to fuck in the bath? As Brienne removed the sheet and folded it neatly before putting it on the shelf of the sink, she gave the tub a critical eye. It was wide and long, spacious enough for Jaime’s tall, muscular frame and long legs. For all her begging him to fuck her, she couldn’t imagine how they’d do it in the tub. It easily fit one tall person but two? And with what they would be doing? 

They had not even showered together. While she had slowly gained confidence with baring her body for Jaime, it was a different situation when she was naked and coming apart in his arms and just showering. It was another notch to her weirdness, she supposed, finding the soap in a dish at the shower. She took it and brought it with her to the tub.

Gingerly, she stepped in. The tub was not as low as it usually was. In fact it was at the appropriate height for her. That pleased her. Brienne sank in the warm water with a sigh. In the embrace of the tub and the water, she could forget, or at least, put it very far behind her, what had happened in the study. She rubbed soap on her skin, turning it redder. "Gods," she moaned when she guided the soap between her legs. Slick skin met her fingers. Shaking her head as her cheeks crossed another shade of red, she finished cleaning there and put the soap away. She leaned back.

She was swimming in a sea of comfort, imagining herself drifting on her back in the clear waters of Tarth when Jaime’s husky voice broke into her thoughts.

“You look good in the tub, wench.”

Brienne jumped. She jerked upright, curling her legs to her chest as Jaime laughed. “Relax, Brienne. It’s just a bath,” he told her.  
Just a bath, she repeated in her head, watching as Jaime removed his towel. 

Rangy and on the lean side, Jaime looked skinny and narrow when clothed until he was naked. His arms bulged with firm muscles. His chest and stomach were defined and flat, without the slightest pinch of fat. Brienne’s thighs were muscular but Jaime’s muscles were outlined so, his legs heavily corded, that he was a perfect anatomy model. Well, he was perfect in every way, she thought, feeling a surge of feminine satisfaction knowing that it was her fingers that messed up his golden locks, that the coal-black pupils dominating the narrow ring of his emerald eyes was because of her. She licked her lips looking at his cock hard and pointing straight to his stomach.

Seeing where she was looking, Jaime palmed himself. “I debated whether to jerk off before joining you or stay like this.”

“Just come here, please,” Brienne requested him, looking up into his eyes. Her voice sounded raw with need and she looked away, a blush climbing to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the warm water rippling around her. 

“Scoot forward a bit, wench,” Jaime told her, walking toward her. “I want to hold you.”

Brienne did as he asked, shifting to the center of the tub. She folded her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. Jaime climbed in behind her. The hairs of his legs tickled her backside as he spread them, surrounding her. The water sloshed as Jaime leaned back, the back of his shoulders pressing on the edge. A shiver coursed through Brienne as the warm tip of his cock nudged at her back.

“You’re cold. Come now.” When she hesitated, he put his arms around her waist and pulled her. “Now you won’t let me hold you?” He whispered in her ear.

“I’m heavy, Jaime. I should be the one—“

“You’re just right for me, Brienne. And I said I want to hold you. Come on.”

Brienne let him pull her to his chest, guiding her to rest her head on his shoulder. She watched as Jaime cupped water in his hands and sluiced them down to her breasts. She moaned as it fell on her tight, sensitive nipples, squirming as she did. Her legs, which were still curled to her chest, now stretched languidly, between his.

“You’re so responsive,” he whispered, licking her on the cheek. 

“Only with you.” There will be no other man, she thought. The idea scared her but being in Jaime’s arms, it couldn’t really get to her.  
“Only with me.” He sounded a little smug yet also awed. 

With Jaime’s breath feathering her cheek, his heart beating firm under her back, his arms and warm, strong body surrounding her and all this wonderful warm water, Brienne felt herself going adrift towards a dream and here she was, just barely awake. She was so relaxed. So safe. 

Jaime seemed to enjoy wetting her skin with water, tossing and guiding it toward her. He would kiss her or suck at a patch of her warm skin, claiming that each freckle tasted different. He barely touched her but boy, did Brienne feel all of him everywhere at once. She felt suspended, caught between pleasure and heaven.

Jaime’s fingertips brushed the sensitive sides of her breast before cupping them. Brienne keened against his throat.

“Brienne. Do you want us to fuck tonight?”

As he asked, one hand drifted between her thighs. “Oh, gods,” Brienne moaned as his fingers found her. She was wet and slick still. He breathed harshly against her. 

She felt him smile. “Jaime, not gods.”

“Jaime, do you have to ask me this? Still?” Her throat was so tight each syllable was a difficult pull.

“Because I want to fuck you. But if you’re still—because of what happened.”

“How can you say that? How when I—“ Brienne could only spread her legs. Jaime took that as an invitation to slip long fingers in her. “Oh.” She was still tender but she couldn’t, couldn’t think of telling him no, not when her entire being was wired to him. She clenched around his fingers, ignoring the slight discomfort. How she wished his fingers were thicker, harder. Something else. She squeezed her eyes shut as his lips feathered her nape. 

“Do you want us to fuck tonight?” He asked her again. His fingers began to slowly slide in and out of her. Brienne’s hips began to move instinctively. Water fell to the sides of the tub.

“Jaime, I’m still so humiliated,” she gasped as he pinched her clit.

“Never think that what happened reflects poorly in you. I don't think that. But Brienne, my wench, please, you must let me touch you,” he begged her.

Sweet, hot release was waiting. She only had to surrender. But it was another surrender, another night of him pleasuring only her again. She still wouldn’t have him, not completely. 

Brienne shook her head wildly. She moaned his name and he bit her shoulder. “I need something to forget. Make me forget. Please, please fuck me.” She turned to look at him. The action caused his fingers to slip out. Droplets of water gleamed like diamond studs on her skin, on her nipples. 

Her eyes, dark like raw sapphires, implored him. “Jaime, I want you to fuck me. Now.”


	3. Three

Shifting Jaime and Brienne POV

 

At her words, Jaime’s brain was flooded with hot images of what lay in promise for the night: Brienne, her eyes big and blue, her mouth open as she moaned his name, her breasts with their small, plump nipples tight and aching for his mouth, her cunt. Her cunt that he had only tasted. His cock hardened even more at the thought.

Brienne froze. “Jaime, did you—“

“Wench,” he was gripping her shoulders so hard there would be bruises tomorrow. He couldn’t let go. “You’re going to have to get out of the tub before I embarrass myself.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Brienne, still endearingly clueless, turned around fully and saw his tight, pained expression. “Jaime, what’s happening—“ 

Her knee brushed against the head of his cock. Jaime groaned at the familiar tightening in the middle of his back. He grabbed her, planting his mouth hard and firmly over hers, his head gripping the back of her head none too gently while his other hand worked furiously on his cock. He pumped hard, erratically, racing toward that release despite not wanting to. He sucked hungrily on her bottom lip as he came, his semen splashing her thigh and stomach. 

Her surprised little “Oh” in his mouth drove him to spill more on her. He brought his teeth down her full lower lip.

“ _Fuck, Brienne,_ ” he growled against her soft mouth. “If being with you is that good I can just imagine how it is when I finally take you.”

He laughed breathlessly, resting his forehead against her. Brienne looked at his semen floating in the water, the droplets that remained on her skin before she cupped his face in her large hands. He closed his eyes as she kissed him, shyly but eagerly.

“You’re sure you want my cock, wench?” He asked her, thumbing her nipples.

She nodded. 

“Say it. I need the actual words,” he demanded.

“Fuck me, Jaime,” she whispered, the vulgar words sounding sweet from her lips. “Fuck me. . .with your cock. In my. . .in my cunt.”

He smiled at her. His wench was still so shy, how was that possible? “Then let’s get out of here.”

He had her leave first before climbing out after her. He grabbed a towel from one of the hallway cabinets and patted her dry with it. Brienne wore a full-on body blush that made her look like a giant, ripe strawberry. There was no resisting her and Jaime gleefully took advantage by kissing and sucking random parts of her skin, freckles. He got down on one knee as he wiped the thread of semen that clung on her thigh. He didn’t want to wipe it off, he wanted his mark on her. He tossed the towel away and spread the substance on her skin, the muscles trembling under her thigh. He looked up at her.

“Don’t deny me leaving my scent on you, Brienne,” he told her. She nodded.

He straightened up and helped her don a robe, a rich, navy blue that emphasized the paleness of her hair and skin overwhelmed by freckles. It was more for himself rather than for her comfort. Jaime worried that if he let her walk naked to his room, he would fuck her against the wall or push her to the floor and take her there. They brought enticing images but he was determined to have Brienne in his bed. To fuck Brienne in his bed.

Still, he put his arms around her waist and drew her close to his wet, naked body. “You’re sure, wench? Tonight I fuck you?”

“Are _you_ sure, Jaime? You keep on asking me.” Brienne sounded a little annoyed.

“There’s my favorite wench,” he said. He played with the collar of her robe. “I want to fuck you. I’ve probably wanted to fuck you since that first day in your shop when you told me no.”

Brienne’s cheeks bloomed pink. “Someone had to.”

“Only you,” he told her. 

He made a move to carry her to the bedroom but she stopped him, telling him firmly that she was perfectly capable of walking herself there. Jaime made a show of surrendering, holding up his arms and raising his eyebrows at her. Brienne scowled and told him to quit it. He kissed her again, deeply and hungrily, until he was sure that she was looking at him softly.

Jaime slipped on a robe. His arm around her waist, they walked to his bedroom. Halfway there, Brienne stopped in her tracks and looked out into the hallway. "Um, Jaime. There's something I have to get there first," she said.

"I'll get it. What is it?"

"My bag. There's. . .but maybe you have them?" Brienne seemed to fight an internal war before she blurted out, "Condoms."

Jaime was surprised. It hadn't occurred to him to stock up on them. If he had any in the penthouse, they would be expired. He suddenly took her hand and kissed it hard. Brienne looked at him wonderingly and he said, "You just saved the night, wench."

Brienne watched him leave to retrieve her bag. She bit her lip as she waited, not wanting to go to his bedroom without him. Jaime was back in a flash, her bag in hand, a smile on his face. "Shall we?" He asked her, holding out his other hand. She took it.

She wondered if Jaime could feel her trembling. Her gait was a little unsteady and she felt hot as if afflicted with fever. She glanced at Jaime as she sat on the foot of the bed, wishing she were as sure and bold as he was. He put her bag on the nightstand then said, "Do you mind if I get the condoms myself, wench? I don't have any." She nodded, not realizing right away what that detail meant. When she did, he was already standing before her, a golden light in his eyes. A smile teased the corners of his firm lips. 

“Take off my robe, wench,” he whispered.

Brienne’s eyes bugged out. Usually, it was she who got naked first—well, half her clothes were always gone by the time they made it to the bedroom. Jaime often remained fully dressed. 

_Oh, gods,_ she thought, both thrilled and terrified. _It’s really happening._

Jaime took her hands and put them on the belt of the robe. “Relax, Brienne,” he told her, straightening her clenched fists. He kissed her palms, blew warmth into them. “It’s only me.”

She swallowed, nodding. But she thought, no, it’s _you._

She took a deep breath and loosened the belt of the robe. She spread it open, her breath stuttering loud out of her nose as she realized that this man was for her, giving himself to her. Brienne ran her tongue around his navel.

Jaime caught his breath. “Stop.”

“What? Why?” Brienne blushed. “Was I. . .what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. Don’t think that.” Jaime shrugged off his robe and stood proud and naked before her. His cock was already fully erect. Brienne raised her eyebrow and looked at Jaime, who grinned.

“What can I say, wench? I get them a lot with you. “ He nodded behind her. “Really get on the bed. Take off your robe before you do.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She had to stand up to take off the robe. Then she sat down again. She walked her hands behind her before the rest of her body followed, raising her legs, bending them. Jaime watched her the entire time, looking like a starving man. 

Not sure what to do, Brienne spread her legs.

Jaime groaned. “Fuck, Brienne. _Fuck._ ”

“Is this—“ her voice trailed off as her face burned—“Jaime, is this right?”

“Too right,” he uttered. He looked down at himself. His cock was pointing straight at her now from the thick cluster of his golden curls. His jaw was tight. “You’re so pink and wet. I want to fuck you so bad but not yet. Brienne, I’ll be touching you, alright? It would hurt less if you let me touch you first.”

“Can’t I touch you?” She asked. Unconsciously, her hand drifted between her breasts. Jaime looked up at the ceiling then at her.

“What is it?”

“Touch me, sure. Touch yourself too. But I’ve barely enough control as it is. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She frowned. “I won’t break.”

“I still don’t want to hurt you. Now lie back. Keep those long legs of yours spread, wench.”

As soon as she obeyed him, Jaime was on her. 

His kiss dragged a hungry moan from her as he kissed her like his very existence depended on the rough meeting of their mouths, the violent tangle of their tongues. He had touched her many times but each time felt different and new, as if for the first time.  
His name was a breathless gasp from her lips as his chest hairs scraped her sensitive nipples. Her breasts, heavy and full with want, needed him so she arched her back, offering them, herself, to him. He was attuned to her, knowing what every gasp, every lurch, every arch of her body meant. 

“Gods,” she whispered when his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed their soft weight. “Again,” she begged him.

“My bold wench,” he teased her, his voice hoarse. 

His lips made greedy suckling sounds as they feasted on her nipples. Deep into his mouth he dragged one, sucking it hard as she moaned, releasing it when it was stiff and red and tightening from the cool air. When Jaime licked her other nipple, she started pinching the neglected one. 

It seemed there was a hot link between her breasts and cunt. As she touched herself, something sharp seemed to slap right on her clit and her hips reared up. There was his cock, hard and pointing at her, eager for the home of her warm cunt. _“Jaime. Jaime.”_ She begged him, moving fast, moving slow, moving to get his cock in her, now. Instead, he laid a hand on her thigh, stilling her.

“Not yet.”

Was he serious? Her eyes were blue fire. “Now, damn it.”

He laughed against her breasts and licked a freckle. “What an eager wench.”

“It’s your fault,” she moaned as his lips brushed down the length of her stomach. 

“I’m not sorry,” he said, grinning at her. It threatened to split his face in half when she glared at him. “I’m really not.”

“Fuck you, Lannister,” Brienne groaned as his breath ruffled the curls of her cunt. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I’m _your_ asshole,” he agreed just before his mouth did what it did best.

Brienne’s eyes were wide and her mouth open, emitting breathless, high-pitched gasps as Jaime buried his tongue in her cunt. This was unlike anything he’d done. He was. . . _savouring_ her, judging from the wet sounds and lion-like growls he was making as he licked and sucked her, determined to get every drop. Gasping, feeling her heart too big that it was going to burst out of her chest anytime, she risked a glance at Jaime.

_Holy fucking gods._

His eyes had never been this dark, he had never looked this hungry, this determined that if she didn’t know him, she would fear for her life and run as fast and as far away as she could. As if sensing her thoughts, Jaime’s fingers clamped hard on her thighs, keeping her still and open, helpless from his kisses.

“Jaime,” she cried out as she felt herself flung to a white-hot world. He groaned, the vibrations from his lips setting her off to another level of pleasure, pleasure she never thought was possible. Her hips moved violently, frantically against his mouth and tongue, wanting more of the friction, needing the burn that would shatter her to pieces. 

And Jaime obliged her.

Brienne had no idea how long she felt her mind adrift, sailing on a calm sea, before she realized that Jaime was lying over her. She curved up slightly, needing his kiss and he gave her his lips, sliding his tongue wet with her own juices. A shiver ran through her body and she clung to him, her fingers gripping his hair quite painfully, her legs spread, her open thighs a firm cushion for his cock leaking at the tip. Still in the clouds from her release, she barely registered him reaching for something from the nightstand, where her bag was. A silvery, tearing sound followed and then Jaime was back in her arms. She held him tightly. 

Jaime kissed her, a hard, bruising kiss that would leave her mouth sore for a few days but she didn’t care. She didn’t care what he did as long as she had him now, completely. He grabbed her legs and hooked them over his lean hips. She crossed them at the ankles and looked at him. Jaime seemed to take a deep breath and she begged, “Please.”

"Tell me you want me."

"Yes, Jaime. Please.

Soft and tender from her release, he easily slid the head of his cock past the lips of her cunt but she was still torturously, wonderfully tight. He pushed his tongue past her lips, his finger sought her swollen, sensitive clit and she shook around him. Her cunt yielded another inch for his cock. He felt bigger and thicker than she thought he would be. She swore she could hear the _stretch_ of her cunt struggling to accept him. 

“So tight,” he groaned against her mouth. His hips were pumping hard against her now, his cock wanting in, needing to be deeper in.  
“Please, Jaime,” she begged again, burying her fingernails in the firm muscles of his back. The pain had him jerking hard against her, his cock tearing her barrier. She hissed in pain while he gasped, startled. 

Her eyes screwed shut, she slowly, carefully, moved her hips.

“Brienne,” Jaime sounded pained. “Slow down. I don’t. . .I don’t want to hurt you any more than need be.”

“It won’t kill me,” Brienne insisted stubbornly, her hips picking up pace. The pinching sensation was still there but it wasn’t unbearable. 

“Gods, you’re hopeless,” Jaime complained but he started moving against her. His eyes were tender as they looked at her scrunched face, her closed eyes. “Brienne, look at me. Watch me fuck you.”

Brienne nodded and opened her eyes. They were red-rimmed from the tears they held but they wouldn’t fall, not when Jaime was looking at her like that. He smiled at her shakily before he put a hand on her hip and guided her toward another way of moving. This time, a blast of heat went through her cunt and she moaned.

“Good, wench?” He sounded concerned.

“Yes. Gods, Jaime. _Yes._ ”

She let him guide her, trusting him without question. Slowly, the pain ease until it was shelved in the recesses of her memory, one that she would remember but would not dwell on, much like burns and cuts she collected in her line of work. But she was never going to forget the way Jaime looked like when he roared his release, throwing his head back and the veins in his neck standing thick and strong. This night was implanted in the deepest part of her. 

Nor would she forget that when he looked at her afterward, both of them trembling and sweating from their release, it was as if he had loved her from the very beginning of time. For tonight, she could allow herself to think that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four will be up in a few days. I also did some revising because I'd posted an early version of this. There's not much difference but I'm just crazy that way:-)
> 
> Part Nine would be the conclusion of the series. Thank you so much for your comments and your support! Merry Christmas, everyone!


	4. Four

Shifting Jaime and Brienne POV

 

Jaime liked his sleep. It was one of the things he was serious about. He disliked weekdays because it meant waking up early. Weekends, in his opinion, were too short since he was only allowed to sleep in as late as he wanted for two days. 

He was also possessive about it. After fucking a woman he allowed her a few minutes of cuddling, ten minutes at most but that was it. No matter how tired he was or how comfortable her bed was, Jaime got up, put his clothes back on and left, more often without looking back. Brienne was right—he was a jerk. But he didn’t tell her, and he didn’t feel the need to defend himself, that he made it a point to tell a woman right away not to expect anything from him. A fuck, the experience of a lion between her legs and nothing more. 

Brienne was the only woman he had slept with. She was the only woman he had invited to his bed, in his life.

Sleep did not soften her harsh features. In fact, her only beauty was her astonishingly blue eyes. Through her, Jaime was slowly learning that a pretty package was only that—packaging. You removed it, you threw it away, and since life could be shitty at times, all that wrapping and ribbon and prettiness contained nothing you wanted, not for long anyway. 

He had had no intention of unwrapping Brienne Tarth. But when they spoke the first time and he saw how she was unimpressed by his name and looked at him as if something she would very much like to crush under her big feet, something flicked a switch in him. He responded—there was nothing to do about it. Oh, it was annoying how she was unswayed by his name or good looks and he had resolved to make her come to heel. Brienne, for all her awkwardness and tendency to talk to her feet rather than to people, had handed his ass back to him with very little effort. Spoiled, arrogant, self-centred—they were labels heaped on him from the moment he was born and he never cared. He delighted in making them true. When Brienne Tarth’s army of bloggers responded to her call to arms and added that he was a mean son of a bitch taking on a small independent business, Jaime had to admit that rankled. He couldn’t recall caring for what anyone outside of his family thought of him before.

Since Brienne had stomped into his life—or more like he’d forced himself into hers, Jaime experienced internal shifts within him that gave him clarity he didn’t think he needed, as well as the drive for honor. A man without honor, Brienne had called him when he blackmailed her suppliers. He hated that. Hated that a nobody like her thought that of him and hated even more that he was so bothered by the thoughts of a nobody.  
Over the weeks, it turned toward gratitude.

His wench could be surly, foul-tempered, stubborn and thought him an idiot way too many times but being with her gave Jaime a great thrill. For once, there was somebody outside of his family who served him brutal honesty. He also learned to start looking beyond appearances. What he found were things that would later be precious to him.

He liked watching her work, found himself oddly turned on by her freckles and the sweat the gleamed on her face when she worked in the kitchen. She was a dedicated, focused thing, carefully measuring the ingredients, frowning as she turned her wrist when designing the curls of a cake frosting. Her hands, broad and large, were delicate as they painted fondant flowers. These same hands would touch his cheek and he felt, more gently. 

When she turned those sapphire eyes on him, it was like taking a serious blow to his solar plexus, practically knocking him off his feet. 

When they kissed, it was easy to imagine doing it forever.

When she cried out his name as she came, he wanted to hear nothing else, would do anything, for as long as she said his name that way.

And when she had looked at him in surprise and moaned his name as she trembled and hurtled towards her first true orgasm from his lips and fingers, Jaime didn’t want it to end. 

He was close to forty now, still healthy, still in his prime, but recovering didn’t happen as quickly as before. Yet mere minutes after they fucked for the first time, Jaime found himself wanting her again and harder than ever. After wiping the blood from her thighs and his cock, he was desperate to sink in her depths again. It was plain luck that Brienne was eager for another round, for _more rounds_ ("Don't you tire out on me, Lannister," she warned him.). His wench was strong and insatiable. She was also the most eager student, begging him to teach her the many ways they could fuck. Much as he tried to rein her in, tried to convince her there was no need to rush, she gave him little choice but to do as she wanted. It wasn’t like he didn’t want any of it either, he thought, grinning as she continued to sleep beside him. Her body lay in a heavy, exhausted sprawl. While Jaime did not regret fucking her against the wall at one point, he was sorry for tiring her out so. She begged, over and over, for his cock. Carefully, he felt for her cunt under the sheets. It felt more plump than usual. She was still sticky. Fucking her hard made her swollen. He returned his arm around her waist. 

It was very early in the morning. The digital display of his clock showed that it was only five a.m. When Brienne slept at his place, she didn’t go to the bakery as early although she still woke up much earlier for his taste. This time, he had been the first to wake. That was the first sign of Brienne’s exhaustion—she would wake earlier than this time. Jaime brushed his lips against her shoulder lightly before licking the three freckles there.

Jaime decided that he’d watched her sleep long enough. He began rousing her with light, gentle kisses around her face, playfully nipping at the tip of her broad nose. As he kissed her, he slowly wrenched the blanket away from her. In the gray-blue light of the morning, her skin was luminous alabaster. Jaime dragged the blanket to her ankles until her body was completely bared to him, a naked feast that was only his to enjoy. Where to start? The firm curve of muscles down her arms? Her small breasts with the pouting, sweet, pink nipples? Or the ridged plane of her wide stomach, firm yet covered in soft, supple flesh? His breath began to quicken as he took in the corded length of her thick, hard thighs then her muscled legs. Those calves looked _edible._

He stared at her cunt, its tangle of thick, dark blond curls and darker pink colour. He had no choice.

Thus, when Brienne finally woke up, it was with a shocked gasp at the sight of a golden blond head between her spread thighs, and a wicked tongue plunging in and out of cunt. “Jaime,” was all she could say, as she could only watch and take what he was giving her. Her feet flat and firm on the mattress, she pushed up toward his lips. The stiff muscles of her hips and thighs screamed in protest and she whimpered, falling heavily. Jaime growled against her clit, hooked his hands under her knees and spread her legs, lifting her feet off the bed. Brienne clung to her pillow, almost ripping the case in her hands as she came with a scream.

“I’m not yet done with you, wench,” Jaime said, grinning from between her trembling thighs as she slowly recovered from her orgasm. 

“Oh gods,” Brienne whispered as he spread her legs wider. She watched, breathing through her mouth as Jaime rose to his knees, sharp and graceful and so beautiful. He unrolled a condom down his cock, whispered, _“My wench,”_ then thrust. 

She was still tender and very sensitive but her cunt was wet and oh so hungry for his cock. Brienne held on to the bedpost as Jaime, still holding her legs, fucked her, smirking. His eyes gleamed as they looked at her face, her breasts, at the hot, wonderful place they were joined. Sweat poured between her breasts and he leaned down to lick it. 

Jaime’s fingers playing with her clit had Brienne crying out. He groaned as she clenched around him, practically strangling his cock. Grimacing, he continued circling his fingers on her clit, his face dark with determination. “Oh, gods,” Brienne gasped before her body slumped limp on the bed. She watched him thrust four more times before he collapsed on top of her, his firm, heavy weight pressing her deeper on the bed.

His chest hairs were rough on her sensitive nipples. Her cunt felt like a bruised peach but she held him to her, her arms and legs refusing to let go. His hair tickling her nose was a loud, bear-like sneeze waiting to happen. As sleep pushed her eyes closed, she thought she heard Jaime saying he loved her. A dream, she thought. She had never been so achingly, _wondrously_ tired. 

When Brienne woke up a couple of hours later, the sun was warm on her shoulder and back. The scent surrounding her was Jaime but she could already tell, even with her eyes still closed, that she was alone. Bleary blue pools fluttered open, blinking at the white brightness of the room. She had been lying facedown, the blanket tangled at her waist and behind her knees, her legs bare to the cool air of fall just outside the window. If she looked out, it was another day. No different from yesterday. But _she_ was. 

It finally happened. Jaime and I fucked. I'm no longer a virgin. She inhaled Jaime's scent from the pillow. Though he wasn't with her, she could feel him. Heat climbed to her cheeks. It was like he was still inside her. 

She rubbed the sleep off her eyes and pulled the blanket up, covering her chest. She was pushing herself up to sit, her stiff muscles snapping and creaking, when the door opened. Jaime, criminally handsome even in a faded, threadbare black t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knee, sauntered in. His smile was big as he took in the sweet, bedraggled sight of Brienne, blond hair tumbled around her head, her eyes drowsy, her freckles out in the sun. 

“Awake at last, lazybones,” Jaime announced, his eyes twinkling. “I thought I’d fucked you to an eternal sleep.”

Deep, crimson pools formed on her cheeks. “I am tired,” she agreed but she was not complaining. 

“Help me out with this dilemma, wench,” Jaime said, leaning against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. With one ankle crossed over the other, his stance was lazy and casual. The masculine satisfaction in his face taking in her swollen mouth and her hip marked with his kisses peeking out from the blanket told her otherwise.“You’re no doubt starving and there’s the promise of pancakes in the kitchen, executed by your lover who would like to feed you so he can fuck you with a clean conscience but you look so very good, and might I add, so sexy, in his bed that he’s tempted to forget about your welfare and answer the call of his cock. What do you think he should do?”

Brienne, clutching the sheet to her breasts, scowled at him. “If he heeds the call of his cock right now, he’s never going to see me naked again.” She ignored the tingling in her cunt anticipating the hard, breath-taking, _delicious_ push of his cock. Her nipples pressed against the sheet. How was this possible? She was a bloody limp rag. If they fucked now he _would_ obliterate her. 

Jaime looked pained. “You wouldn’t be so cruel.”

“Expected if he goes with his base desire,” she added, smirking. 

Jaime pretended to mull it over. “If he feeds you pancakes will you let him finger you while you eat?” He pulled out one hand from his pocket and licked his middle finger. “He can’t get enough of your sweetness.”

Brienne gasped as she felt the now familiar slickness sliding between her legs. “I am serious about eating. I don’t like distractions. I'm _starving._ ”

“But you _are_ a distraction, wench. How about if you sit on my lap while I feed you? You have to be naked to appreciate the experience, though.”

Jaime looked at her assessingly. "I'd nibble on that sweet-looking patch of freckles on your right shoulder first."

Brienne groaned and threw herself down the bed. “Jaime, oh, Jaime. _Why_ I put up with you I’ll never know.”

She still had her face buried in the pillow when she heard him throw himself beside her. Brienne bounced until he put a hand on her waist, steadying her. He pressed his lips on the slight curve of her hip, the shy indent of her waist before he lay back. Then he whispered to her to look at him. “I know why you do, wench. And you’re going to like my answer so much you’ll be begging me to fuck you. Well, after the pancakes. Anytime after that, actually.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “You’ll think me a smart man at last.” 

She turned her eyes on him. “You are cocksure, aren’t you? Alright, Lannister. Impress me with your elusive intelligence.”

“Are you ready? The reason you put up with me is. . .”Jaime took an exaggerated deep breath before he looked at her, eyes sure and the brightest she had seen them. “Because _you know_ I love you.”


End file.
